


The Hook Mountain Massacre

by JackBivouac



Series: Rise of the Runelords [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Bondage, Dick Puppet, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Interspecies Sex, Living Dildo, M/M, Multi, Rape, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-05 23:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackBivouac/pseuds/JackBivouac
Summary: The adventures of Myr and the rescuees





	1. Mama's Boys

When Jak, Vale, and Avin returned from their mission to Fort Rannick, they found the place in the midst of a fort-wide massacre by ogres that had already been going on for three days. It was obvious they could do nothing before seeking reinforcements. With such justification in their minds, the three turned tail and fled before ever making themselves known to their ill-fated fellows.

As they ran through the woods toward the nearest town, they heard the bark of a family dog. The rangers stopped. As soon as the ogres grew bored of Fort Rannick, they would spread through these words toward the town. Whatever homestead that dog belonged to had to be warned.

Jak, Vale, and Avin, courage and purpose restored, ran toward the sound of the barking dog. Just before a clearing, they found a cornhusk-and-leather scarecrow hanging from a tree. Beyond stretched a small, tangled field of corn and wilting plants.

The three rangers picked their way through the farmer’s crops as quickly but carefully as they could. The called out greetings toward the two buildings sagging at the end of the field. There was no response save for louder barking.

They stumbled out from the cornfield to find both the barn and farmhouse had boards over their windows. Moss and fungus grew heavy on the shaded sides of the decrepit structures.

“This place looks abandoned,” said Vale, a dark-skinned man with piercing eyes narrowed at either building.

“Let’s just free the dog and go,” said Jak, a grizzled middle-aged man.

Avin mentally cursed the dog for ever barking. He was the youngest of the group and used to relying on his looks to get out of such pointless errands. “I’ll stay here and watch your backs.”

That was good enough for Jak and Vale. They ignored the unusually large farmhouse for now and took off for the barn. The rotting doors creaked open on rusty hinges.

Several grimy kennels had been built into the wall under the barn’s catwalks. A large black dog was in one of them. He barked so loud that neither Jak nor Vale heard the rustling as two mounds of molding hay parted around jagged-toothed faces and muscular limbs armed with heavy cudgels.

Even Avin missed the rustling of the cornstalks behind him. To be fair, he was drinking from his flask at the time.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Stars burst in their eyes. For several dizzying minutes, all that the rangers knew was dizzying, disorienting pain from their backs and the back of their heads. They crumpled to the ground, too stunned to do anything but watch as though from a distance as the lumbering giants stepped into view.

There were four ogrekin half-brothers in all, spawn of humanoids raped by their matron into impregnating her. Before being eaten alive. 

The two brothers in the barn bound Jak and Vale with rough, heavy ropes. The ogrekin giants lashed their wrists and elbows behind their backs. They bound their ankles, running another rope from their ankles to the binding at their elbows for a tight, leg-spreading hogtie.

Avin was forced into the same tight binding by not one but two brothers as well. One of whom drained the rest of his flask. The other petted Avin’s shiny hair and the smooth skin of his face like he was a dog himself.

“Crof! Crof!” said Ruks, the petter, jumping from one cornstalk-shaking foot to the other.

“Huh?” said Crof.

“Mama’s fuckmeat is making my dick hard.”

“Me too, so?”

“Let’s stir it up a little. C’mon, Crof. Please? It’s got two holes. We can go at the same time so fast Mama won’t know.”

Crof looked back at the house. Not like Mama’d be leaving any time soon anyhow. He shrugged and unbuttoned his pants. Ruks whooped and did the same.

In their steadying consciousness, Avin, Jak, and Vale all found themselves in the same predicament--painfully hogtied at the feet of inhumanly strong, horny ogrekin. Avin, unfortunately, had two all to his lonesome.

Ruks grabbed the seat of Avin’s pants and ripped it in two with his bare hands. At the sight of the twink’s tight asscheeks, he grabbed the taut flesh in either hand and spread. He buried his face in Avin’s ass, his thick tongue worming up his clenched anus.

“Stop it! Get out of there you ugly piece of shit!” Avin roared, straining in his bonds. The ropes didn’t budge, digging into his sweating skin with their rough hold.

“Yeah, Ruks,” said Crof. “It’s better this way.”

Crof grabbed the line joining Avin’s elbows to his ankles and yanked upward. Ruks tongue was yanked with a loud, wet pop from the fuckmeat’s asshole. Avin grunted in pain, shoulders and knees straining backward, his back forced to bend.

Crof shoved his dick through Avin’s pretty, grunting mouth. From the first thrust, the head of his giant cock bashed the back of the fuckmeat’s throat. 

Crof groaned. His other hand fisted in Avin’s hair and forced his mouth deeper on his pistoning cock. Every choke and gag only constricted the walls of his throat around Crof’s pounding head. Saliva spurted from the corners of the fuckmeat’s choking mouth.

Ruks grabbed Avin by his slender hips and pushed the thick girth of his dick slow through his anus. He watched eyes wide and mouth gasping as that tiny, tight hole swallowed his giant’s cock inch by inch.

Ruks’ dick ripped his fleshy walls apart, but they couldn’t go far. Ruks’ dick was such a tight fit in the fuckmeat’s ass that Avin’s walls pressed and spasmed against his cock at every gut-clenching pound. 

Avin’s entire body wracked into helpless convulsions, shaking his taut ropes like the strings of a fiddle. His head bounced on Crof’s cock, Ruks’ dick pounding muffled grunts and nasal whines out of his dripping mouth and running nose.

“What a slut! What a slut! What a SLUT!” Ruks crowed, his cock beating like a jackhammer in Avin’s pulped anus.

Crof agreed, seed bursting from his cock into the fuckmeat’s throat at the same time as Ruks’ seed exploded in his ass.

Avin, helpless to his own pathetic instinct, was sucked into his rapists’ orgasm. His ass clenched in anal orgasm around the heavy girth stuffing its entire length. Cum splattered from Avin’s dick onto the taut skin of his belly, leaving him sticky with pleasured shame.

“Too bad we gotta give it to Mama,” said Ruks, pulling slow and slimy out from that snug, slopping shaft.

Mama was gonna eat. It. Up.


	2. And I Must Scream

For three days and nights, the three hapless rangers were raped day and night by the ogrekin brothers and their dread Mama, surviving only on their diet of cum and scraps stolen from the dog's bowl. By the fourth day, all three came to the grim agreement that this wretched existence wasn't worth it. They stopped stealing from the dog.

The ogrekin didn't notice. They simply went to the kennels and hauled Avin, still the prettiest one, back to the house for Mama's wake up fuck.

Avin choked, his eyes burning as soon as they toted his hogtied body into her room. Buckets of filth were stacked against the walls, fat ravenous flies lazily circling their rims.

The room was dominated by an immense bed, its ratty sheets stained beyond hope. Mama sat upon it, painting a giant-sized easel with a palette of various shades of brown and red paint. The source of these morbid pigments, crushed organs and ragged stumps of flesh, sat in receptacles beside the easel.

Mama was a full-blooded ogress, a mountain of muscle, fat, and flesh. She wore a huge red curtain as a smock, absently pulling up the hem over her head-sized cunt as Ruks and Crof approached.

Her stony-toothed maw took a sour twist at the sight of Avin. "I told you not the pretty one!"

"Sorry, Mama," said Ruks. In his slump, Avin's filthy, sickly, decidedly not-pretty face hit the shit-stained floor.

"I'll go get the old one," said Crof, deliberately dropping Avin's hips, legs, and goods onto the floor as well.

"Naw, it's fine. I'm low enough on paint as it is. Maybe his insides are as pretty as his outs," Mama shrugged. "Y'all just pump that head of his into Mama's pussy, but this time, you don't touch him after I've cum. Leave him and I'll pull him out when he's dead."

At the horrible prospect of suffocating to death in the folds of Mama's giant vagina, Avin, once resigned to his fate, now shrieked in fear for his life as Ruks and Crof hefted him up once more. They shoved him shrieking-mouth-first into her fleshy pussy.

Avin's screamed choked to coughing as his nose and mouth filled with the gobs of her slick. Ruks and Crof pounded him faster, harder, and deeper through her quivering, squeezing walls.

When those wet, heavy folds closed with a deathgrip around his head, neck, and shoulders, he knew this was the gory, gristly end. He had a mouth but not the breath to scream, slowly suffocating to death in the iron hold of her spasming walls. Each orgasmic convulsion rattling his skull. This was Hell.

And suddenly, impossibly, human-sized hands grabbed Avin's bound body and yanked him out of Mama's cunt with a wet squelch. Jak and Vale, filthy but free, cut through his bonds.

Mama didn't move. Blood gushed from multiple deep slashes in her flesh, but her mountainous bulk keep her upright on the bed. Ruks and Crof laid on the shitiful floor, riddled with the rangers' black-fletched arrows.

"H-how?" rasped Avin, hacking up a ton of slick.

Jak and Vale pointed at a shadowy figure behind Mama. "She saved us."

The woman, hooded and cloaked, wiped her short sword clean on Mama's smock. Even in her shapeless garb, Avin could see she moved with the grace of a fey.

"My name's Myr, and I've been sent to infiltrate Fort Rannick. Will you help me?"

After she'd saved all of them from a death worse than death, they couldn't very well say no.


	3. The Distraction

Storm clouds gathered as Jak, Vale, and Avin led the hooded Myr toward the fallen Fort Rannick. By the time they reached the valley, thunderbolts shook the earth underfoot, talons of lightning clawing the sky. The lightning alone cast a pale light on the fortress standing sentinel over the valley at the base of two sheer cliffsides. Crumbling walls ringed the fort, pitted and cratered from hurled boulders and ogre hooks. Nearby, a rushing curtain of white water cascaded down the mountside into a large pool.

The rangers led Myr through a secret tunnel behind the waterfall, the same one they used to escape. Only, it was not so secret anymore. They were spotted by ogre sentinels and dragged in nets to the former chapel of Erastil, Stag God.

The walls were mounted with dozens of antlers, some taken from stags as tall as dire bears. Now the trophies had become hangars for new, gristlier trophies: rotten flesh, flayed skin, and coils of viscera. The marble altar served as a coat rack, heaped with the mangled remains of a half-dozen rangers, a crude, three-eyed jackal of Lamashtu painted above its alcove.

The largest ogre of them all, his hide as thick and grayed as the elephant he resembled, sat with his back to the prisoners and the sounds of violence echoing through the halls. He used a large needle and thick black thread to stitch the head of a stag onto a body flayed and feathered. Only once he'd tied off his current thread did Jagrath turn.

“Good, more parts,” said the leader of the ogres. He grinned, baring a mouthful of black, stone-like teeth, and grabbed his ogre hook, massive iron sickle.

Jak closed his eyes. At least this death had to be cleaner than suffocating in the folds of a giant vagina. Vale grabbed Jak in an embrace of pure terror. He still didn't want to die. Avin huddled, sobbing over his hugged knees. They had gone all this way just to meet death's ugly mug once more.

Myr, sitting up on her knees under the net, threw back her hood. The full weight of her inhuman beauty struck the ogre artist like a knife across the eyes. Jagrath staggered back throwing his hands over his face.

His ogre guards raised their hooks. Jagrath, peering through his fingers, shook his head.

“No! You ruin the nymph and you die!” he roared.

The ogres exchanged worried glances as they lowered their hooks. They hadn't exactly been gentle dragging the prisoners’ nets through the fortress. 

Jagrath, rending Myr's net apart with his bare hands, didn't seem to notice. Her clothes were next to be torn. They fell in feathery shreds around her slender ankles. Jagrath salivated.

“You're my new cock sheath, and you're never leaving my body,” he growled.

The guards tied ropes around her upper arms, drew them over Jagrath shoulders and tied the ends to Myr's forearms, strapping her to the ogre's chest. Ropes were tied around one things, drawn around the back of Jagrath's waist, and tied off around her calves, so the nymph was forced to hang with her legs spread to take the ogre's giant cock in either hole.

Jagrath grabbed her around the waist in one hand. He lifted her to position his dick under her ass then yanked her body down onto his impaling cock, sheathing himself to the hilt. The three rangers collectively winced.

Myr screamed and writhed in his fist. Her bound arms and legs jerked against the thick hide of his hulking frame. But her torture had just begun.

Jagrath dragged her helplessly trussed body up and down the spearing girth of his cock. Each rapid drag ripped her walls apart and slammed his dick so deep into her anal shaft that the bulge of his head was visible through her crushed stomach.

Myr's sobs were replaced by breathless grunts, the air pistoned from her lungs by the ogre's giant cock. When he came into the impossibly tight squeeze of overstuffed anus, she sputtered and gagged. The gush of his cum swelled her belly to pregnant proportions, and rigged by her bonds, his flaccid cock kept her hopelessly plugged and swollen.

Night was coming. Night was coming. Myr shut her eyes and repeated the words in her mind like a mantra. It was the only thing that kept her going when Jagrath's dick hardened again and again and he fucked her bound body full of his cum.


	4. The Longest Day's Night

The night was long in coming, too long in Myr's opinion, but darkness did finally fall upon Fort Rannick. With it came death upon soundless steps.

Ogre after ogre turned the corner of the fortress halls. They never made it more than two steps from thee nearest shadow, falling to a flash of blade and arcing blood.

Myr, hanging half-conscious in bondage from Jagrath's shoulders, cum sopping endlessly from between her strengthless legs, was as clueless as her captor when the blade came calling.

Jak, Vale, and Avin, under their trapping nets in the corner of the desecrated chapel suddenly tensed, sitting ramrod straight. Drops of wet splattered onto Myr's head and shoulders. More drool, most likely, and therefore not worth cracking an eye.

There was a heavy think and splat. Followed by the heavier think of Jagrath's entire body. He fell backwards by his killer's design. Myr yelped, arms and feet flailing uselessly in their rope straps.

Orik stepped from the shadows, blood running down the blade of his bastard sword. The red glow faded from his eyes, leaving them clear as amber whiskey. He gave his nymph mission partner a sheepish grin.

“Hey…”

“Don't ‘hey’ me you bloodsucking bastard,” croaked Myr. “Do you have any idea what I've been through.”

“Sorry, sorry,” said Orik, slashing the rangers free of their nets and Myr free of her bonds. He wrapped the nymph's drained body up in a warm woolen cloak and scooped her up in his arms. “You’re right, I don't know.”

“You know nothing,” she harumphed as they walked out from the chapel into the bloodstained halls.

“I know nothing, Myr dear...but can I just say ONE thing in my defense?”

“If my elbows weren't spaghetti right, I'd be applying my hands to my ears right about now.”

Orik bit his lips, weighing the pros and cons of his news. He decided to say it fast and quietly enough that she might mistake his voice for a draught of wind. “Italkedusupathousandplatinum.”

Her pointy ears twitched. Myr used the last of her strength to turn and look at him with widened eyes. “A...thousand platinum?”

“...but only if we do this one last mission.”

Myr had no words. She pouted and glowered all the way back to Vancaskin Manor.


End file.
